Vincent Valentine: Lover
by BML Hillen-Keene
Summary: Sequel to Vincent Valentine: Turk. After being rescued from life in the coffin, Vincent finds himself remembering Gold and Blue, and he can't seem to take his eye off Cid. Valenwind.
1. Memories

_Disclaimer: I own not._

_Ok, the sequel arrives, please enjoy, a longer A/N at the bottom. please excuse the ba grammar and spelling._

**Vincent Valentine: lover**

_Chapter 1_

Vincent Valentine was a man of contradictions. The first of many being that he considered himself a man, when it was clear he was one no longer. His past had been stripped from him. He had clung to the last name he had ever heard, and the situation surrounding it, and through the years he had held onto it. But that name only brought sad memories, dark thoughts and tears. There were other memories, of blonde hair, blue eyes and smiles that spoke of happiness and joy, and love. But names were lost to him now.

He wished they weren't.

He clung to his hate of Hojo, citing Lucretia as his cause, but he knew it was a lie. He hated Hojo because he had taken from him that gold and blue paradise.

It was these memories that made his red eyes track Cid Highwind. Or, if it were not, he would use them as a convenient excuse if the matter came up. Cid was alike a whirlwind, and had wormed his way past Vincent's barriers with incredible ease. It reminded him of someone else, the other person he could not put a name too.

"Yer staring Vince." Cid said, startling him from his thoughts, taking a long drag of his cigarette before settling back and meeting Vincent's eyes.

Vincent did not blush. "I apologise Highwind." He responded.

Cid rolled his eyes. "What's bothering ya?" he asked.

They were alone around the fire; everyone else had retired to bed hours ago.

"I was merely trying to recall some things from before my time in the coffin." Vincent admitted, holding the blue gaze, once again struck by how similar they were to those in his memory.

"Must suck not to know everything." Cid nodded. "Did you have family or anything?" he asked.

Vincent shrugged, his cloak shifting a little with the movement. "Not that I can recall. In truth, all I do remember clearly is Lucretia and Hojo." They were both silent for a long time, before Vincent found himself asking, much to his surprise. "What about you Highwind?"

"Me?" Cid's face twisted into a contemplative look, his hand reaching up to touch the ever present goggles. "Family? Well, there was me mum. She died about ten years back now, my Aunt May, whose still alive ad kicking to this day over in Junon."

"No father?" Vincent found himself asking.

Cid grimaced. "Did have one—right bastard. He beat mum and me p till I was two. Then we got away. Man who helped us was called Vincent too." Cid fell silent for a moment before shrugging dismissively. "Suppose that's why I don't call you Vincent too often."

"Bad memories?" Vincent asked, curious now.

Cid gave a crooked smiled and shook his head.

That was all that was said that night.

*x*

Vincent dreamed of blue and gold, and for the first time in such a long time of dreaming it, the colours became a woman and her child, smiling and looking at him. He felt warm as he looked at them, and for that night he was content.

*x*

The next time Vincent found himself watching Cid he wondered why only Cid reminded him of that Gold and blue paradise, and not cloud. After all, Cloud was blonder haired and blue eyes, perhaps even more vibrant that Cid in colour.

But not in personality.

That, Vincent eventually decided, was the difference. Cid reminded him of that time he had forgotten because he had the same energy Vincent got flashes of.

They were again the last ones up that night, and this time it was Vincent who started the conversation, curious to discover just what had made Cid into the dynamic man he was now. "Tell me about your mother." He asked.

He had surprised Cid a little, but not nearly as much as he would have surprised the others. He hated people asking about his past, because all he could remember clearly was the pain, the brief flashes of blue and gold were not enough yet to counter it.

"Me mum?" Cid asked, his mouth twisting thoughtfully around his unlit cigarette. Vincent had noticed that the man didn't actually smoke them, so much as just have one there. "Well, she was a good sort."

Vincent was surprised at the surge of disappointment that washed through him when he thought Cid was going to stop there. Cid's eyes never left his face, and Vincent guessed he could see the feeling there. The other man gave a slight huff.

"She was sorta small, blonder hair, blue eyes. Real cheerful. She never let anything get her down. She was always laughing, or dreaming. We designed the Tiny Bronco together." Cid laughed softly at the memory. The way not a single curse passed his lips told Vincent just how much he respected his mother.

"You got your love of flying from her." He surprised himself by making it a statement and not a question.

Cid nodded. "Yeah, she always wanted to fly. Damned if she wasn't surprised when I showed up home with the Bronco built and airworthy. Got a right chewing out over it." He grinned. "Seems she's wanted to build it with me." He laughed then, remembering; Vincent was struck again by that happy, content memory with no name.

"You love her very much." He noted.

To his credit Cid didn't blush or bluster as Vincent had expected, just shrugged easily, taking the cigarette from his mouth and tucking it behind his ear. "Yeah, well, she's my mum."

"How did she die?"

Vincent could have slapped himself for his lack of tact when he saw the unguarded sadness cross Cid's face before it disappeared. He was expecting Cid to make some crude comment before stalking off to bed. Vincent would have done it, (replacing the crude with something cutting), if anyone had asked about Lucretia. But Cid did nether, just looked at him thoughtfully.

"She got sick, pneumonia, one winter. It was probably good that she passed on. Her lungs were never going to recover." Cid heaved a small sigh.

Not knowing why it was important to know, but finding he had to ask anyway, Vincent said. "What about the man who helped you? Did you keep in touch? What did he think?" he had sensed that the man had been important to Cid in some way from the way he had mentioned him when they had spoken before.

Cid shrugged. "He was long gone when mum passed."

"Dead?"

"As far as I know. He used to send us letters and come visit us in Junon. Disappeared before I was six. Mum always said it was a queer thing. He'd just quit his job and was going to come back and marry her. But he just never came back."

"Maybe he could cold feet." Vincent offered as an explanation, though for some reason he new it wasn't true.

Cid snorted, an almost laugh hidden in it. "Vincent? I don't think so. He was a lot of things, but once he gave his word he kept it. And he swore to mum that he'd be back, and that he'd marry her. Hell, I can remember just how much he loved her. Think I figured it out before he did though." Cid laughed then.

Vincent could almost clearly see a little blond haired blue eyed boy with a pair of oversized goggle on his head (envisioning him without them was somewhat difficult), staring up seriously at him (he supposed he put himself in place of Cid's Vincent for some reason unknown to him), telling him in no uncertain terms that he (Vincent) was in love with his Mama, and that meant they had to get married.

Vincent was surprised by the vividness of this imagining and shook his head a little to clear it. "He just disappeared." He asked.

Cid nodded. "Yep, never heard from him again. So mum always reckoned he'd died. S'why I joined Shinra when I got old enough—well, part of it anyway."

"He worked for Shinra?" Vincent asked.

Cid nodded. "Yeah, never really found out which section. Forgot to ask." He laughed a little, but there was a little sadness there.

Vincent didn't continue the conversation, and neither did Cid.

*x*

That night Vincent dreamed of the blonde woman again and the laughing child she held. They seemed to come into sharper focus as they played, sometimes looking to him, beckoning him to join them. But he didn't, knowing it was just his mind conjuring up images based on Cid's stories, but he found himself longing for them, almost as if they were his.

When he woke, it was to a whispered name.

"Karen."

_Ok, a few things. 1: Vincent was not put into the coffin until Cid was six, which means he was on there bout 26 years, the reason for this is because I keep getting mixed messages from wesites etc. that Vincent was in the coffin 23 years, 30 years etc. 2: This will be a slash story, if you don't ike that then don't read it. I did warn you that the sequel would be 'twisty'. 3: I apologise if Cid appears to be different, but hopefully he will be more like his old self in the coming chapters._

_Please review, and I hope you enjoyed!_


	2. Actions Taken

_Hi everyone, back again! Please enjoy. I had a flash while considering this chapter and have come up with another twisty thing, well, anyway, just read and enjoy._

**Actions Taken**

Days passed, nights stretched on; Vincent continued to watch Cid, and at night he dreamed of the blonde woman and her son. The name, Karen, dogged his thoughts, but he never mentioned it to Cid. He didn't know why. Was he afraid he would be ridiculed? Or was he afraid he would find out he was the Vincent Cid spoke of?

It was an impossible notion really, and in truth a rather frightening one. But in his thoughts he wished it was true. That he had perhaps almost had a family. He had developed a true affection for Cid, and the thought that he had perhaps known him before, had obviously meant enough to him that Cid spoke of him with some fondness, would he heart-warming. But it was also this affection which made him hesitant to want that dream. In the weeks they had been travelling together the affection he felt, harboured something else.

It was only because Cod was the embodiment of the vague happiness he could remember. Cid was vibrant in the same way, direct and simple, but dreadfully complex. Vincent wanted that. Over the past few days he had brooded over it, and he had been surprised to realise that the feeling he got when he remembered that old and blue paradise was love. Not the love he had had for Lucretia, but a deeper love.

Was it selfish to want that again?

Was it selfish to watch Cid and pretend that he could have that with him?

Maybe it was, but he couldn't help himself. For his part, Cid did not act as though Vincent staring at him was any bog deal. So things continued on as they were, and days bled into weeks. Their journey took them across the world. Aries was killed and the group had moved to defeat Sephiroth. Vincent's musings were set aside, for the most part, though in quiet times, most often at the fire long after the others had retired to bed and only he and Cid remained awake, he continued to watch.

*x*

When Cloud fell ill, Cid was appointed leader and they had the airship to travel in. It was during this time that things came to a head. Cid had summoned him to his cabin, under false pretences Vincent would soon learn.

He had knocked, entered when called for, but once onside he found himself in an almost desperate lip lock… except that it was Cid, and no matter how desperate it was, there was something else that made the word 'desperate' seem the wrong way to describe it. The kiss was strong, passionate, and filled with a need that was not sexual, but something else Vincent could not put a name to. He tasted of smoke, and of engine grease, a combination unlike anything Vincent had experienced before.

"Highwind?" he asked when Cid pulled back.

Cid did not blush and look away, instead he held Vincent's questioning gaze steadily. "You gonna tell me you didn't want that?" he asked, plain, simple and daring Vincent to deny it. Had he been so obvious? His question must have shown on his face because Cid snorted at him. "Vince, you done nothing but stare at me for weeks. An' I know what stares like that mean. So are ya gonna tell me ya didn't fuckin' want that?"

Had Vincent not been watching Cid closely he would have missed the flash of worry and almost desperate need cross Cid's face when he asked, and they way his fingers curled convulsively around his cigarette pack. There was a sudden vulnerability in Cid that Vincent had never seen before.

All denials faded then, because in truth Vincent had wanted that Kiss, and he did not want to leave Cid in this state. Now that he realised just what a strain Cid was going through he was surprised he had not noticed it earlier. He did not have the strength to say the words, but then, words had never been his strong suit. Following some instinct that came from the time after Lucretia e reached forward and pulled Cid to him. He stopped just short of kissing him and raised an eyebrow in question.

Cid looked up at him, those blue eyes so like the woman in his dreams, aged, vulnerable, but still so incredibly strong. But there was also a spark of the child there, something innocent and needy. There were no signs of second thoughts, so Vincent moved forward enough to kiss him.

Suddenly that Kiss devolved into a frantic rush to remove clothing. Cid's hands pushing at his cape loosening buckles with a shaking hand, a desperate rush to touch skin; Vincent found himself no better, and was surprised at himself in that small part of his brain that was still rational.

Clothes divested, they sort of fell onto the bed, more by accident than by design, and Cid stared up at him, his usual cockiness and arrogance not gone, but there was a look in his eyes that asked Vincent to just take over, to give him one time when he didn't have to be the one in charge. And Vincent did, without question, or hesitation.

Cid was unfamiliar to his touch, felt different, smelt different, even responded differently to anything he ever remembered. But as e had only ever been with women before now Vincent supposed that shouldn't surprise him. But it felt good, in a way he couldn't really explain.

Their previous haste left him, and Vincent was intent to explore, and Cid was content to let him. Vincent could feel all the tension flow from him, and was again shocked that he had not noticed it sooner. They reached the end together, and afterwards Vincent was content to lie beside Cid, holding him lightly.

There was a long silence before Cid shifted, breaking out of Vincent's hold to reach for a new pack of cigarettes on the bedside cabinet, his last pack probably unsalvageable now in the trail they had left to the bed. He pulled one out with his lips and offered the pack to Vincent, who accepted one without remark. Soon smoke curled in the air in front of him. He made no move to pull Cid back into an embrace, but Cid leaned into his shoulder a little and they sat and smoked.

"Vin How long were you in that coffin?" Cid asked, bluntly, and completely out of the blue, but Vincent found no annoyance or anger towards the question.

"Thirty years. Why?" he replied.

Cid shrugged easily. "Just wondered was all. That's a long time. How'd it happen?"

Vincent blinked, surprised, he had forgotten that they had met Cid after he had been released from the coffin, and that he ad requested those who he had told some things to, to keep what they knew to themselves. Vincent thought back to that time. "Hojo." He said simply, finding he could not come up with a more concrete answer, that time was strange and disjointed to him.

Cid said nothing, just took a few more puffs of the cigarette before smashing it out lazily in the ashtray on the cabinet. "I woulda been two back then. Hmm… kinda weird that." He gave a short laugh.

Vincent frowned slightly, but shook off the feeling creeping into the back of his mind, inside he asked. "Why were you so tense earlier?" Because now Cid was radiating his usual relaxed nature, and there was something about the energy surrounding him that told Vincent that whatever had been causing him strain had been banished completely.

Cid gave an almost grimace, and turned his face away as he reached for another cigarette. "It just gets to me sometimes." He shrugged casually, leaning back against Vincent again. "Normally I just have a few smokes, coupla shots of whisky and I'm fine. Tonight was just…" he trailed off and shrugged again.

Vincent was surprised he had gotten that much, but had the feeling he probably shouldn't have been. Cid was honest, to a fault at times, and was never embarrassed but what he said. If it wasn't for the fact that Barrett, and Cloud were like Vincent himself and not given to speaking about emotions, and the embarrassment that followed any admittance, Vincent would have thought it was a product of his time, over thirty years ago, when men did not admit things that could be perceived as weaknesses.

No, Cid was just a singular man, and Vincent could only guess it was because of his mother.

"Cid?" Vincent asked suddenly, his mouth taking over before his brain could catch up enough to stop it. Cid gave a small grunt, and Vincent realised he was already half asleep. "Where did you live… when you were two, before that man helped you get away?"

Cid looked up at him with a confused blink, but answered, though it was clear he was now ready for bed. "Nibelheim. Mum always told me never to go back there. Said it was best I never meet my bastard father. Always meant to go there, find him and kick the crap outta him for what he did to her, but just never got the chance. Suppose he's probably dead by now."

Vincent had stopped really listening past the first word. Nibelheim…

"What was your mother's name?" he breathed out past the sudden lump forming, this was all just some bizarre coincidence, and he was going to prove it.

"Karen." Cid frowned at him. "Why, something wrong?"

Vincent managed to summon up a ghost of a smile, pushing back every other thought. "I was merely curious, Highwind." He said.

Cid glared at him. "Cid, my names Cid. Picked it meself and everything."

_"Mama said I didn't hafta be called Cidney no more. That's good, because I never did like it, so I got to pick my own name, and I picked Cid. Cid's a cool name; don't you think so Mr. Vincent?"_

Vincent found he couldn't actually breathe all of a sudden. Which was ridicules, because there was no way what he was considering was in any way true. He had spent thirty years in that coffin; Cid's Vincent had vanished when Cid was six, four years later.

He needed to leave.

So he did, getting up in a single fluid motion, moving towards the door, picking up clothes as he walked, and dressing just enough to be decent. He ignored Cid calling to him, and the concerned cursing go on behind him. He paused in the doorway for only a moment, searching for something to say, but words failed him and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

The door swung shut with a dull thud, and the lump in Vincent's chest became larger and heavier.

_"I…" she stopped, and he turned his eyes back to her, to see her chewing her lip again, glancing back at the house she had left before squaring her shoulders and meeting his eyes determined. "Karen, Karen Highwind." And she nodded, pleased with herself. "And this is Cidney jr." she hefted the little boy up a little._

*x*

_Uh…. You might be wondering just what exactly is going on, but hopefully it should all become clear. Vincent is starting to remember, and somehow I get the impression it might not be the most pleasant of occasions. Please Review, I'd really appreciate it!_


	3. Swirling

_Been a while ain't it? Well, at long last I update. Please forgive the brooding angstness in this chapter, but really, who wasn't expecting a lot of that. Poor Vincent, and Poor Cid (that's all the hints yer getting lol) Please enjoy._

**Swirling**

It had been days from that mistake. Possibly the biggest mistake of Vincent's life. He had avoided Cid to the extent that the others had noticed something was wrong. Cid had made no move to approach him, and more than once he had caught a flash of confused hurt and concern before it was shut down. Cid had begun to snap more, no more viciously than he ever did, but there was more of it and no one was spared.

Vincent had heard the crew talking about the sudden change in their captian, and he felt more than a little guilty that he had been the cause. But it was best that he stayed away from Cid, until he had worked this out, made sense of what he had learned and discovered. After all, he was sure to lose Cid completely once the truth came out, so the distance was for the best.

That night, that night he could no longer think about without feeling somewhat disgusted with himself, not because of Cid, and yet completely because of him at the same time, and the feelings he stirred in him. That night it was as if the floodgates had opened, memory upon memory had assaulted him. Lucretia, Hojo, Karen, Cid (both as a child and an adult), until he was no longer sure what was truth and what had been wistful imaginings.

It had taken days for everything to fall into place, and even then there was so much he didn't have. His time with Lucretia was clear, his love for her. Her betrayal and Hojo's was also, though in truth he could not recall how he even knew Hojo, it was almost as if the first time he had encountered him was the expiriments, but Vincent knew that wasn't the case, he had known Hojo before that.

His memories of Karen were even less clear, flashes still, but there was just enough to let him know that it was the truth. He knew if he were to ask Cid about some of the things he remembered they would match.

He hated Hojo even more now, not only had the man taken Lucretia from him, but he had also take what could possibly be considered the happiest years of his life from him as well. Four missing years that he could never get back, thirty years of his life where he could have had a family. What was it Cid had told him. He had quit his job and was going to marry her. He could't remember that, and it pained him greatly, to think he had loved this woman so much, enough to marry her and it had been ripped from him.

Why had he ever left? What had driven him to Hojo?

And Cid… what was he supposed to tell Cid… how was he supposed to act around Cid… His memories were clear enough to show im that he had once considered Cid as his son, by choice. And yet now he had…

Granted he hadn't known, but that was really no excuse. He hadn't known for sure, but in the back of his mind from he had met Cid there had been something. He should have asked before, he should have asked before everything had gotten so complicated.

The deck of the Highwind was quiet, and the silence was soothing, though it did nothing to calm the swirling emotions bottled inside him. He looked out over the dark sky, the land invisable below them. He leaned on the railings, wishing he could go back to simpler times, when he had only the grief and guilt over Lucrecia to haunt him. Hating Hojo was simple enough over her, he did not really need anything more than that.

But simpler times were far behind him now, and there was no escaping the inevitable.

"Oh.. ah... I just... I'll..."

He had never heard Cid sound so nervous before, and that drove home, more than anything, how he had been treating his friend, his one time lover... his son... No, not that, never that. He couldn't handle anymore complications. He had more than enough to feel guilty about. He turned to see Cid standing, scratching the back of his head, shifting from foot to foot, eyes looking anywhere but at Vincent.

"Highwind." he said, keeping his voice controlled.

Cid dropped his hand and looked at him, looking relieved, angry and frustrated, and nervous. Why was he nervous? Silence streached between them, Vincent waiting for Cid to speak, while Cid did not seem inclined to.

"Is there something you want Highwind?" Vincent asked, deliberatly making his voice cold, driving a wedge between them, they couldn't be friends, couldn't have affection for each other when Vincent told him the truth, or it would destroy him.

Cid's eyes sparked. "Cid!" he snapped

Vincent said nothing.

Cid pulled a pack of ciggarettes from his pocket, and fumbled with the package, not taking one out, just giving his fingers something to do."Dammit Vin--Vincent... I don't know what the fuckin' hells wrong with you, but whatever bee ya got in yer bonnet, get rid of it! This has been going on long enough!" For all the strength of the words, Vincent could see just how uncomfortable Cid was, like he knew nothing he could do would stop Vincent from continuing to act as he was.

"There is nothing wrong with me, Highwind." he stressed the name slightly.

Cid sighed, defeated. "Ok, so I made a mistake. I shouldn'ta called on ya. But I was so damn sure..." the last was a mere whisper, and Vincent felt his heart ache when he heard it. Cid turned away.

He could let him leave, let him believe everything had just been a mistake. It would be an easy out. He could try and forget all these new memories. But the slight Slump of Cid's shoulders as he began to open the door back into the airship made Vincent say, before he could think.

"I'm him."

Cid stopped, and turned his head, blue eyes confused as he glanced at Vincent before turning back. "Huh?" he asked.

Vincent closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and focusing all his attention on Cid. "I'm him, the man in Nibelhiem who helped your mother, the one she was going to marry."

Cid frowned. "No ya ain't Vin." he said. "Hell, don't go making shit up like that. I insulted yer delicate sensibilties, convinced ya to do something ya didn't really want to. Ya don't have to make excuses. Fuck, I'm a grown man, I can take it ya know."

Vincent heard what Cid wasn't saying, and was angry with himself for letting Cid believe he was at fault for this, that he had somehow forced him into sex that night. "I'm not making excuses."

Cid dragged a hand through his hair. "You can't be him. He's dead, been dead 26 years!"

Vincent was silent for a long moment, studying Cid. "I gave you those goggles." he said, slowly, seriously. "On your fifth birthday. You didn't think I was coming and had run away. I found you in that little cave by the sea we'd found, the one you kept all your shells and feathers in. You told me..." he trailed off briefly, swallowing at the rush of the memory. "You told me, that it wasn't fair that I only came to visit sometimes, and that your mum missed me, and you missed me, and that you knew I missed you both. You told me that I should just marry your mum, and live with you always, because it was stupid that I loved her so much, and hadn't even kissed her."

Cid was frozen, his eyes wide, a hint of fear there, and overwhelming sadness.

"And I told you--"

Cid cut him off with a shaky breath and whispered words. "'It's more complicated than that kiddo, I don't know how to be a husband, or a father. It wouldn't be fair to either of you.' And I told you that was stupid, that you loved her, that you had to marry her, and..." Cid looked like he was going to be sick.

Vincent looked away, remembering the scene so clearly, one of the few he could recall.

_"That's stupid Vincent! You love my Mama! You have to marry her." Cids small frame moved closer to Vincent, who didn't know whether to be amused at the childs persistance or surprised he had seen so much. Vincent put his arm around him, careful not to dislodge the slightly too big goggles now resting on the blond hair. Blue eyes looked up at him, rimmed in red from when he had been crying earlier.  
_

_"'Side's I think you make a great daddy."_

He heard the door clang as Cid disappeared back inside the ship, and he sagged back against the railing, feeling like his heart had been ripped out. Once again he was alone; and this time it would be forever.

_Hope you enjoyed, please review!_


	4. Tea

_Disclaimer: Still don't own..._

_  
Back again... Now, if only I could find the spark for Children again... Anyway, things are not looking good for Vincent, or Cid. What will I do to them now? Please enjoy._

**Tea**

The act of avoiding Cid was null and void now, after all, the Captain of the airship did an abrupt about turn if he stepped into a room or corridor with Vincent. Everyone had seen it, and none of them could understand why the usually so companionable Cid was obviously shunning Vincent. He had had more than a few of them asking him about it, worried about him. Vincent wondered how many of them would do so when they found out what he had done. But it had been days, and no one knew, which meant Cid was not talking about it.

Cid was honest, very very honest. He had not once lied, in all the time Vincent had known him. If asked a question, even if it was an uncomfortable one, he would answer. So for no one to know what had happened meant that Cid was not only avoiding him, but everyone else as well, or he had started lying. Vincent felt guilty, deservedly so, because he felt as if he had broken Cid, turned him into something he wasn't. He hated himself for it.

That was why it came as such a surprise when the airship came to a halt one afternoon and Cid requested his presence on deck. He went, apprehensive, but willing to accept whatever Cid wished to do to him. He was surprised it had taken so long for Cid to either decide to punch him, kill him or kick him off the Highwind, but he had known it was going to happen. He arrived on deck, looking around for Cid, he saw him, leaning on the railing, lit cigarette hanging from the fingers of the hand that hung over the railings, the other arm supporting his weight. His eyes set in fierce concentration, almost glaring at the ground below them. His blond hair shifted in the light wind.

Vincent shoved away the stray thought that told him Cid was beautiful, ruthlessly locking it away. He stood, still and silent, unsure how to begin, how to apologise. Because he owed Cid one.

"I need you to get off my ship." Cid said suddenly, not moving even an inch.

Vincent lowered his chin more into the collar of his cloak. "I understand." he said. He turned towards the ladder.

He almost missed the whispered. "Ye have no fucking idea."

He reached the ladder, before he swung himself over it he said. "For what it's worth Highwind. I am sorry for this." He let himself drop the distance to the ground, landing easily, cloak swirling as he straightened from his landing crouch. He waited to hear the whir of the Highwind's engines as it lifted off, but there was nothing but the steady thrum that always reverberated from the ship. There was a soft thump behind him, he turned, surprised to see Cid there, leaning on his spear. The spear made him wary.

Cid didn't look at him, his eyes turned instead towards the left, his jaw set. Vincent turned to see what he was looking at, wondering what was going on, half expecting there to be some sort of arrangement for a death match, but instead all he saw was the big gun that towered over Junon. He chose not to say anything, there was really nothing he could say, he couldn't begin to imagine what Cid had planned.

"I'm not gonna kill ya if that's what yer thinking." Cid said, and Vincent noticed his voice was husky, disused, and he knew then which route Cid had taken the past few days, it hurt to think of the man cutting himself off from the others, that wasn't what Vincent had wanted. "Come on." he started walking towards Junon.

It wasn't until they were walking through the lower part of the city, following a path that Vincent found familiar, that Vincent realised why Cid had taken him here, and his heart clenched. He was tempted to turn, to walk away. But he owed this to Cid. This whole damned situation was because of him, so he would see it through. Whatever humiliation Cid wanted him to go through, he would. The reached a small house, hidden behind some others.

Iit hadn't changed in 26 years, not a single thing.

Cid marched to the door and gave it a good thump with the butt of his spear, hitting it again when it wasn't answered immediately. Vincent moved back slightly, as the door was thrown open, and the infamous Aunt May stepped out, waving a kitchen knife dripping in what looked suspiciously like blood.

"You mind my door Cid Highwind or I'll take that damned spear and shove it up yer ass!"

"Ya'd have to get the spear first woman." Cid groused back, pushing past her and inside the house, leaving Vincent to face May, who was now eyeing him suspiciously.

"Who're you?" she demanded to know.

He looked at her, studying her features. She looked older that the faint glimpses of her he could remember, her blond hair hiding the gray, a little more weathered, but it was nothing major. She had aged well. Had Karen? He shook his head to chase that thought away. "Vincent." he said, leaving off his last name, not knowing what would happen if she remembered.

She eyed him shrewdly. "I can see that." she turned back into the house. "Well, you'd best come in."

He followed her into the house and to the kitchen where Cid was rooting through the cupboards, three cups already sitting out beside the kettle, he was muttering to himself, when he realised that he was not alone he turned to May. "Where th' hell you keep the tea?"

May non to gently pushed him out of the way, setting the knife back down on her chopping board. "Sit yer ass down Cid. You know you can't make tea right."

Cid slumped into one of the seats, his eyes resting on the flower tablecloth, Vincent knew he was deliberately not looking at him. "That's just 'cause you hide the goddamned teabags every time I visit. Yer just scared I can make it better than you." His entire demeanour lacked his normal vibrance, though it was obvious he was making an effort to act normally. It was also obvious that May was pretending not to notice.

May snorted in response, pulling the teabags out of a jar cleverly labelled 'Tea' and popping one in each cup. "You haven't a hope of making Tea better than me brat."

Why Cid treated Shera the way he did was perfectly obvious now. It wasn't just because she had ruined his dream of going into space, it was because he was used to stronger willed women who would argue back with him, the fact she didn't probably made him more annoyed with her. It made sense. Vincent stayed silent in the doorway, wondering what Cid had planned, watching the man out of the corner of his eye. It was a surreal situation this, he did not know what Cid had planned, but from the way he was slumped in his seat, looking just a little bit depressed, and tired set to his shoulders, and unhappy twist of his mouth it was unclear if he intended anything at all.

"Sit down, ya ain't invisible, an' hiding in the shadows won't make ya that way." May said, startling Vincent as she sat a cup of tea at a free space on the table.

Vincent took the seat, looking at the tea. He had not had tea in a long time. Before the experiments he had lived on coffee at work, the only time he had ever had tea was when he came to visit... And Karen had always been waiting, tea in hand at the door. He had never acquired a taste for it, but nevertheless he accepted the cup with a smile and thanks...

"Now, what brings you to my door? Thought you were off saving the world or some such nonsense." May asked.

Cid was silent, still staring at the tablecloth. "May..." he said finally, though May was waiting patiently, tapping a cigarette against the ashtray on the table, ignoring Vincent. "What was his name?"

May rolled her eyes. "I know you like to play dumb Cid, but I know ya ain't. You know his name well as I do."

Cid shook his head. "His last name. Ya never did get round to telling me it."

"You never asked." May retorted.

"I'm asking now!" Cid snapped, jerking his head up, his eyes flashing to Vincent for a second before boring into his aunts. "Damnit woman, this is important!"

May held his gaze, and stared him down, when Cid looked away she turned her eyes to Vincent, and studied him, and Vincent saw the moment of realisation in her eyes before she looked to Cid, understanding sadness. "I'm thinking you already know the answer I'm gonna give."

Cid slammed his chair back and left the kitchen. The slamming of the front door sounded loud, and echoed in the small kitchen, like a death knell. Vincent was quiet, choosing to stare into his tea rather than meet this formidable woman's eyes.

"Vincent Valentine." there was a soft chuckle when she said this. "If I didn't think you had a damn good reason for never coming back I would slap you."

Vincent looked up, surprised.

"Left a lot of broken hearts when you never came back. But Cid's was the worst. He did everything you told him not to, thinking if he did you might come back to make him stop. Karen had to tell him you were dead, just to get him to let go. Worked hard convincing him, almost ended up believing it herself in the end. He never believed her though, I could tell, as bad as each other those two." she chuckled again, sadly. Her eyes raking his face again. "What happened?"

"Hojo." Vincent breathed out, she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Vincent was reminded that not everyone knew about Hojo. "A scientist, he experimented on me. I forgot everything, The whole four years I spent... I spent the last twenty six years in a coffin."

May shook her head. "A bad business." she said.

Vincent frowned. "You believe me? No questions? Why?"

"I never forget a face, and unless yer Valentine's son, which I know he never had... It was your eyes, they're a different colour, but they read just the same." She shrugged. "Always thought you were hiding everything, but we could always read ya. You told him... When did you start to remember?"

Vincent was momentarily stunned. How could anyone take this so easily? A fuzzy memory slid into his mind, of May, and it let him know that very little phased this woman. She had watched, impassively and without judgement as he had executed, in his most heartless fashion, a man who had thought Taking Cid would be a good way to make him back off the hunt. "Just over a week ago. I told him a few days later."

"There's more to that story, but I reckon I ought to hear it from Cid." She pushed her chair back and stood. "Drink your tea." she told him, going to the side where two cups still steamed, taking out the tea bags, adding the milk and sugar and lifting them. She left the house.

Vincent stared at the tea he had forgotten about, and reached out for it, taking a sip. Exactly how Karen had always given it to him. He recalled, briefly, sitting in this kitchen, and someone, who must have been May, mocking him for taking his tea so weak, with Cid sitting across from him, his own tea almost black, giggling while Karen stood to the side, drinking her own and smiling. It flitted through so quickly he could hardly grasp everything, and was lost like all the others. If he struggled he might remember the events surrounding it, might be able to recall his feelings, if he had just arrived, or was getting ready to leave. But more often than not the memory remained just a fragment floating in that lost time.

It was a long wait, and he fought with himself over whether to get up, to look round the house, to see if he could regain anymore memories, or to sit here and await May's return, and perhaps Cid's. Just as he was about to give in to the temptation the front door slammed open again, and Cid burst into the kitchen, and Vincent could immediately see the difference, gone was the slump, and when he looked at Vincent he really looked.

"Come on, we've been away too long already. The others'll think I've killed ya." Cid said.

Vincent blinked, confused, and unsure. Cid was inviting him back onto the ship? Why? Surely his presence would make things more difficult for the man. "Highwind, would it not... perhaps be better if I did not continue--"

Cid waved a hand dismissively. "Cid, Cid, Cid. Call me Highwind again and I'll clock you one. Back to the ship!" he ordered, and left the kitchen.

Vincent was left feeling like a whirlwind had hit, and remained sitting in shock until May returned to the room.

"Shouldn't you be back on that flying contraption already. He'll be back in in a minute to drag you by your hair." May said, her lips twisted into a smirk.

Vincent looked at her, had Cid told her? And if he had, why on earth was she not angry with him. He had... Cid had been... And he had...

"Don't think so hard." May said. "Now git, I don't want to see you again until you actually have a decent story to tell. Hell, destroying a damned nut bag and taking out a giant meteor would be better than this soap opera drivel." She went back to the chopping board she had been working at before they arrived, and did not turn around again. Vincent stood and left without a word. Not knowing what to say. Cid was waiting outside the house, looking ready to do just as May had said and come in to drag him back kicking and screaming.

The walk back was silent, Vincent trying to sift through his confusion over the entire situation, Cid smoked, but his eyes held a faraway look. Once back on deck, Cid reached the door back inside first, and stopped, holding the handle for a long time. "Meet me, tonight, my quarters, after everyone goes to bed." he said, his voice a little gruff sounding.

"Highw--" Vincent cut himself off when Cid turned to glare at him. "Cid..." he amended.

"There's some stuff we need to talk about." There was an instance of hesitance, before Cid pressed forward, his lips connecting with Vincent's in a brief, and chaste kiss before he pulled away. "Yeah, stuff we gotta talk about." and Cid was gone, into the ship, leaving Vincent standing on deck, fingers pressed lightly to his lips, wondering just what had been said between Cid and May, and how he could talk Cid out of the destructive relationship he had alluded to.

_Yes... I'm not sure what to say about this. I'm not too happy with this, but as I have no one at home who's willing to read it over before I post, and I cannot for the life of me work out what's wrong, It'll just have to do. May still rocks. Please review, and if anyone can see anyway to get this chapter to flow better let me know, I just need a little hint, and I can redo it so it fits better._

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Again, please review, and the next chapter should be done soon._


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